


Or Something

by PenguinofProse



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bonding over loving Bellamy, F/M, Mature resolution of love triangle, friendship if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: Picks up straight after S6. In which Clarke and Echo work out their differences like mature adults who care too much about Bellamy to hurt him. Kind of companion piece to "A Beautiful Friendship". Implied Bellarke.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Echo, Implied Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Or Something

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm currently slightly obsessed with the odd dynamic in S6 where Echo seems to be the only person apart from Bellamy who's absolutely determined to look out for Clarke. So here's more on that theme, set straight after S6 ends. It's also kind of a companion piece to "A Beautiful Friendship", because if my headcanons involve Bellamy and Roan working on their relationship, Clarke and Echo should too. Thanks to Stormkpr for betaing. Happy reading!

Clarke never asked to live in a dead man's home.

All the same, here she finds herself, taking in the walls of Ryker's workshop as she reflects that she would certainly never have asked to live in _this_ dead man's home. Of all the places in this godforsaken sanctuary, she's pretty sure this holds more than its fair share of unpleasant memories. And, above all, she would not have asked that she and Madi should share this place with _Raven_. Sure, they might have agreed to forgive, but there are some things she just can't forget so soon.

She strolls to the window. It is easier to fix her gaze outside, on the vision of children playing and peace sticking its tentative head above the metaphorical parapet. Whenever she looks around inside these walls, all she can see is Ryker's warm eyes stalking the staircase, and Raven's cold fury thickening the air.

Madi is here, asleep upstairs. That's something, at least. Her precious child has recovered from Sheidheda's attempts to hijack her mind and has a bright future ahead of her.

That's more than Clarke can say for herself. Josephine is gone, of course, but whenever Clarke looks to the future all she can see is fog. In fact, sometimes if she really squints, she thinks it might be smoke, taunting her with memories of Praimfaya.

She forces herself to turn away from the window and get back on with packing away Ryker's ornaments and knickknacks and memories. She's done this before, of course, when she moved into that house in Shallow Valley. She supposes that moving into the homes of those who have died as an unintended consequence of her actions is almost becoming a habit, by now.

She shakes her head, as she places a framed photo gently in a box. She's not sure why she's taking such care over his things, but at least focusing on her task stops her from thinking too much about anything else.

Anything else like the fact that Bellamy is out there without her, for example. Bellamy is out there, with Echo, and without Clarke, and even though she knows that is only as it should be, it still hurts her heart to dwell on it for too long. Apart from anything else, she's worried that he might be in danger, having gone out to seek answers about the anomaly.

She reaches for an ugly ornament, wraps it gently in tissue. Allows herself another peek at the happy scene outside.

Then she sees Echo striding towards the workshop, and finds herself gaping in confusion. Echo is supposed to be at Bellamy's side, right this moment. She is not supposed to be swanning care-free round Sanctum.

OK, to be fair, she doesn't look care-free in the slightest. But all the same, Clarke bristles at the implied abandonment of Bellamy.

"Clarke." Echo doesn't even bother knocking, she just shoves the door straight open. Clarke likes to think there was a time when she had that kind of self-confidence, too, but it's been a while. A century or two, perhaps.

"Echo." She sets down another photo, and makes for the stairs. "I'll tell Raven you're here."

"It's not Raven I'm looking for."

Clarke freezes at that. "What?"

"I'm here for you." She tries not to remember saying that to the man who lies between them, all those years ago.

"What do you mean, here for me?"

Echo slumps into a chair, and Clarke begins to wonder if there might be a reason that the intimidating woman has been more than usually short with her so far in this bizarre conversation. There is something almost like _anxiety_ in Echo's gaze that she doesn't remember ever seeing before.

"Have a seat, Clarke. You're going to want to be sitting down for this."

"Bellamy?" She asks in a panic, as she slides gracelessly onto a stool. "Is he OK?"

"Yes and no. He's physically fine, for now, but his sister just disappeared and he's going to look for her."

"Disappeared?"

"Into the anomaly. We don't know how, or why, so of course Bellamy is going to be a heroic _idiot_ and go running after her."

Clarke gives a hollow laugh. "He does that."

Echo looks up and meets her eyes, and for the first time in twelve decades Clarke finds herself wondering if there might be good points to the pair of them loving the same man, rather than only downsides. There is such understanding and wry humour in Echo's gaze that she is sorely tempted to weep from sheer relief.

"He does do that." Echo agrees, shaking her head in evident dismay. "Which is why you need to go out there. You're never going to be able to stop him – you know neither of us stands a chance of doing that. But if you go with him you might at least convince him to think about what he's doing."

"Not likely." Clarke snorts. "I've been trying to do that for over a century without much success."

"I disagree." Echo says quietly, thoughtfully. "He tried so hard to do that for you, when we were in space. It was – it was his way of remembering you. And then he made that deal with Diyoza, that was all him."

The situation is obviously urgent. Clarke knows this. But somehow, she cannot resist taking a moment to torture herself before they get back to the task at hand. Maybe something of his heart has rubbed off on her over the years, too.

"What was he like, on the Ring?"

Echo holds her gaze, unflinching, as she answers. She's got a good glare, Clarke has to admit. "He was sad. That's what stands out. He missed you, and he felt guilty for leaving you, but he was trying to hold it together and lead us all. He was trying to be you, as well as himself."

"I'm proud of him." She murmurs, wondering how she's found herself telling his girlfriend that.

"I know." Echo nods. "But I don't think _he_ realises that. So you'd better tell him before the pair of you go into that anomaly together."

"You – you're not coming?" This makes no sense to her.

Echo snorts. "Of course I'm not coming. It's not me he needs out there. I know that, and you know that, and he knows it too but he's too guilty and stubbornly _kind_ to do anything about it."

Another hollow laugh. "That sounds like him."

"Clarke." Echo leans forward in her seat, tone earnest. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You know him better than anyone, and I slept with him for three years."

She ought to flinch at that, she reckons. Only there's something about the tense she can't make sense of.

"Aren't you – isn't that still -?"

"I tried to tell him it wasn't working." Echo spreads her hands helplessly. "You'd have thought he might have worked it out when he decided to drop his entire family to get Josephine out of your head. But he wasn't hearing me, so I told him I needed to come back here to get supplies before we left. Only I'm not going back there. You are."

"It's a good strategy."

"It's what I do." Echo's shoulders twitch in a vague approximation of a shrug. "It's not a coincidence he chose _me_ to help him forget about you."

"We've got a lot in common, you and I." Clarke agrees slowly. It has never really occurred to her before. She has considered Echo an enemy for as long as she can remember, even when she first found out she was loved by her closest friend. But now she thinks about it, she realises it is absolutely the truth.

Echo grins, but it looks a little forced. "What? Are we going to be friends now, or something?"

"Something." Clarke agrees, hopping to her feet. "Thanks for coming to get me. I should grab some things."

"Do you want me to watch Madi? At least until Gaia can get here?"

Clarke freezes in her tracks, stunned. "You'd do that?"

"Clarke. I just spent three minutes explaining that my boyfriend is in love with you. If I was going to hold a grudge I think you'd know about it by now."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "How do you do that? Don't you love him? How do you just – close it all off like that?"

"It's _because_ I love him." Echo bites out, staring at the floor. "I love him, so I'm loyal to his cause. I'm loyal to you because – because that's part of being loyal to Bellamy."

Those are the words that echo in Clarke's thoughts as she packs her bag, and as she leaves the dead man's home behind her.

Those are the words that are still coursing through her as she steps out into the forest.

…...

Echo never asked to live with a dead woman's family.

And she would certainly never have asked to love a dead woman's lover. Sure, they never said the words before the world burned, but everyone knew. It was written in every premature crease of Bellamy's brow, in every harsh word to Murphy and every night throwing back moonshine with Raven.

She didn't ask for it, but it happened all the same. And actually, even though the ending is proving long-drawn-out and messy, she doesn't regret it for a moment. They were good together, and they made a team that was good, even if it wasn't _Clarke and Bellamy_ levels of good. He was warm, and caring, and softened her harsh edges. She was level-headed, and logical, and went through life with her eyes narrowed in thought.

She thinks that's what decided it, in the end. They could just have screwed for three years, and distracted each other, and waited for landing day. But he admitted once, twelve-shots-down on moonshine, that it was that critical gaze that did for him. That when she frowned at a problem, she reminded him of another woman who used to consider the world like that.

So, yeah, not just a dead woman's lover. But even a dead woman's place in a dead woman's bed, and she reckons it's time that she gives it back, now that Clarke has risen from the dead for a second time.

She stays in the workshop while they're gone. She doesn't remember deciding to do that, but between her promise to look after Madi and the fact that she's always been close to Raven, it makes sense. No, hang on. She hasn't _always_ been close to Raven. She forgets, sometimes, that there was life before Praimfaya. She wonders if maybe that's because she _chooses_ to forget who she used to be.

She helps out with tidying away Ryker's things, and turning the place into a family home, and she tries not to count the days that they are gone. She hopes they're safe, and that they will find Octavia alive and well.

She hopes above all things that they will find happiness. She figures they deserve that, those two selfless leaders who have saved her so many times and in so many ways. She is fed up of watching them make sacrifices for their people, and she doesn't want to be another item on their list of regrets.

She allows herself to look out of the window, occasionally, while she is boxing up Ryker's belongings. She has never really thought about children, before. She was hardly going to consider the idea during that first career as a spy, and from the very beginning of her relationship with Bellamy she knew it was not her place to suggest that he might ever raise children with anyone who wasn't Clarke.

But as she looks out of the window now, she can see why people find hope in watching the younger generation flourish.

Much to her surprise, she realises that she can also see Clarke.

She's alone, strides purposeful but face relaxed. She would not look like that, surely, if something had happened to Bellamy?

Echo rushes to the door, and opens it wide.

"Clarke."

It is all she manages to say before she is engulfed in a rather surprising hug. Clarke holds her tightly, and for a long time, and she's beginning to wonder what she missed.

"What is it?" She asks, when Clarke pulls away.

"Isn't that how people usually greet a friend?"

"A friend?" Echo asks, incredulous. She's never really had friends before. She killed the only companion she had as a child, and for all that Spacekru are her _family_ , she knows they did not choose her.

That's what a friend is, she reckons. Someone who seeks your company out of respect and their own free will, not because you're their only choice. By that definition, she realises sadly, even Bellamy was never truly her friend.

"Or something." Clarke mutters, a vulnerable look in her eye. "I've been thinking about everything you said, before you sent me after him. He's OK, by the way, and so is Octavia."

"That's good."

"Yeah. They'll be here when Jackson's checked them over. But I wanted to come and thank you for – for before." She watches Clarke take a deep breath, and wonders what is coming next. "So I was thinking, we should get to know each other better. I figure anyone who puts Bellamy's needs first like that deserves my respect."

 _Respect_. Funny how great minds think alike.

"I've been thinking that, too."

With that, Echo steps aside, and beckons Clarke through the door. She can see Octavia and Bellamy appearing round the corner, too, so she waves and gestures to them to hurry. And Madi has heard all the commotion, of course, so now she's dragging Raven cheerfully down the stairs.

It's about time, Echo decides. It's about time to fill this home with life and love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
